Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(62)

I can’t speak. It’s too good to be true.

“Maybe you’ll even get to play Elphaba one night when I’m there, and I’ll be able to see it,” Tyler adds.

Okay, I can’t let that comment go without setting him straight. “I won’t get to play Elphaba, babe. I’m third understudy. The Apocalypse would have to happen for me to get the call.”

“You never know. One night, Elphaba might get laryngitis and the first two understudies might both inexplicably come down with a mysterious case of diarrhea on that very night.” He puts his pinky to his mouth and cocks his eyebrow like Dr. Evil.

I giggle. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure. The stars are perfectly aligned, baby. Let’s turn lemons into lemonade.”

I squeal with glee. “And after the tour, we’ll come back here, and I’ll start at the University of Miami. Perfect.”

He suddenly looks annoyed.

Oh. My stomach clenches. Crap. I guess I should have asked Tyler if he’s willing to foot the bill for my tuition and expenses before assuming it. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d pay for my schooling,” I say quickly. “I’m sorry. I can totally apply for financial aid.”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Zooey. I’ll pay for anything and everything you want to do in life, whatever it is. You’re mine, baby. I’m gonna take care of you from now on, no matter what.”

I blush. “Thank you.”

Tyler grabs my hand. “One day, you’ll be my wife and the mother of my babies, and my money will be yours. That’s a given. Never even wonder about that.”

Electricity shoots through me. “We’re going to have babies?”

“Of course, we are. We’ve got to have babies. I want to coach my son in pee wee football one day.”

“What if we have a girl?”

“Then I’ll coach my daughter in pee wee football.”

My smile widens. “She may want to take dancing and singing lessons like her mommy. Or, heck, maybe our son will.”

Tyler’s face lights up. “That’d be amazing either way.” He strokes my arm for a moment. “So here’s the thing, my eager little beaver. Given the uncertainty of the situation with me right now, it makes no sense for you to apply to a four-year program in Miami. Who knows where I’ll be a year from now? It’s fifty-fifty the Dolphins will cut me, and I’ll have to shop myself as a free agent. And even if I don’t get cut, I’ll only have a year left on my contract with the Dolphins by then. Hardly a reason for us to make this town our permanent address. I mean, if there were an incredible theater scene here for you, that’d be one thing. But there isn’t.”

“But there’s no alternative. I only came up with the idea so I could be with you and also keep learning and growing and performing at the same time.”

“Yeah, I get it. But if you want to be a college girl again, then I say swing for the fences. Go to NYU. Fuck Miami. Shoot for the stars.”

The very mention of NYU makes my skin buzz with electricity. “That makes no sense,” I say. “Assuming the second time’s the charm for me to get in, which isn’t a given at all, me going to NYU would mean I’d be living in New York while you were living here. Not an option.”

“Oh, you’ll get in. Now that you’ve been on a high-profile tour and made Dean’s list at UCLA, you’re a proven commodity. Plus, I wonder what would happen if I were to give a healthy donation to the NYU theater department and let it be known I felt inspired to give it after seeing an amazing curly-haired girl on the Wicked tour who mentioned it was her lifelong dream to attend NYU?” He flashes me a mischievous look.

I giggle. “Tyler.”

“If they reject you after all that, then fuck ’em. They don’t get to write your story, you do. Either way, I’ll get us an amazing penthouse apartment in Manhattan with three-sixty views, and we’ll split our time between here and there until I can get my ass to New York full-time. There are two teams in New York and a whole bunch a short distance away. I’ll figure it out. Plus, we’ve got off-seasons, don’t forget. So we’ll make New York our home base and figure everything else out around that. One way or another, one day, we’ll both live full-time in New York, I promise. Until then, we’ll just make it work. This thing with you and me is a marathon, not a sprint, baby. Now that we both know for sure we’re in it for the long haul, we’ll do whatever has to be done.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “The thought of us being apart for even short periods makes me feel physically sick.”

“Me, too. But you know what makes me feel even sicker? The thought of me being the reason you don’t maximize your time on this planet. If you give New York an honest try and things don’t pan out for whatever reason, then that’s that. We’ll have some babies, and you can teach theater at a high school or do community theater or whatever the fuck someone does with a useless theater degree.”

We both laugh.

“But I don’t think you’re going to be happy ten years from now, twenty years from now, if you’re thinking, What if?”

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Thank you.”